


Fear - 31 Days of Apex - Day 25

by mdpenguino



Series: 31 Days of Apex [25]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Panic, Small Darksparks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25520038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdpenguino/pseuds/mdpenguino
Summary: Mirage and Wraith bring Wattson along for a camping trip.
Relationships: Wattson | Natalie Paquette/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Series: 31 Days of Apex [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850209
Kudos: 20





	Fear - 31 Days of Apex - Day 25

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been camping.” Wattson said. We all were slightly pre-occupied, so she was speaking, but not to anyone in particular. “Last time must’ve been with Papa, we went to the old Radar facility on Kings Canyon.” Her voice trailed off into a murmur.

This had been a couple months in planning. A small camping trip, it’s primary goal was to try and escape the hustle and bustle of the manic Games. But Wattson had never been on one of these with us, it was usually Gibraltar that came along, or sometimes Path would find his way into the group, much to the dismay of Mirage. But Wattson had always talked about how she and Papa used to camp in and around Kings Canyon before the Syndicate started to use it for the games. We weren’t far in all honesty. I reckon Mirage had taken us a couple clicks out of Solace City to a forest, that because of Bloodhound, I anecdotally knew was nearby. But either way, it’s the thought that counts, and the escape away from the Games is what I enjoy the most. None of these trips are ever the same.

We were sitting, Wattson, Mirage and I, around this large fire pit. But the fire that was inside was anything but large, in fact, it was starting to die-off. The once vivid orange flames of the fire were simmering out into something much more subdued and less dramatic. But the flames themselves, they were as inviting as they had been when the sun had started to set. They danced and flickered, shimmered and swung, spat and hissed. There was discordance to the fire, yet an odd harmony – it was intriguing. Camping trips with Mirage and the other legends were something that I had learned to enjoy, they became a rare trip, a rare experience that was like something I had never experienced. It was truly amazing how in less than an hour, Mirage could make a random spot in a forest, or a clearing, feel like a home. 

To the left of me, was Wattson, her face was illuminated by the orange glow of the fire. The whites of her eyes perfectly reflecting. It was a sight to behold. Her legs were crossed, her hands were resting comfortably in her lap. She was sitting on the ground, like myself. When we arrived in the daylight, there was a sea of pine-needles coating the ground – but it’s not like they were wholly uncomfortable to sit on. 

On the other side of the fire pit however, sat a certain Elliott Witt, and he had brought along what looked like a guitar, albeit it a very damaged and rustic looking guitar, with strings that were frankly too long for it and were starting to fray and curl due to the tension. And he was trying his hardest, bless, to strum a something that vaguely resembled a melody. “Not having the best of luck there are you?” I call out across to Elliott. 

“Hmm? It’s working perfectly!” He retorts. His fingers strumming across the bar and then revealing that the guitar was horribly out of tune.

Both Wattson and I give a hearty guffaw in response to Mirage’s…display. “Working perfectly, oui?” Nat quips.

“Shut up. Both of you.” He says grumpily, his left hand slid up the neck of the guitar and he started to fiddle and twist the small metal tuning pegs. The guitar itself looked like it had been made out of once rare and majestic wood. It was this deep brown wooden colour, with slight tinges of a mellow cream wood. But it also looked like it hadn’t been looked after for a long time. Perhaps it was a hand-me-down, from his parents or maybe even one of his brothers. And it was clear that Elliot hadn’t been using it, at least not consistently. “Is it wrong to want to have some campfire songs?” He asks, by the tone of his voice, I could tell that he was annoyed. It was just his way, he had a very thick shell, perhaps as thick as that head of his.

“Oui, some campfire songs would have been great.” Wattson said softly. Her gaze was once again set upon on the quickly dwindling fire. “Can we put some more logs on the fire?” she asks timidly. 

“Aren’t we going to sleep soon though?” I ask, but in all honesty, it was more of a statement. 

“Sure. Sure. More wood means that we can just tell campfire stories. Am I right guys?” Mirage said in response. 

“Oui! Campfire stories.” It’s like Wattson and Mirage were tuned into the same wavelength. 

“Sure, I guess.” I responded. I wasn’t the happiest about this. It seems that whenever I go camping with Mirage, he ropes us all into something dumb that he and his brothers used to do when they were younger. “Is this something you used to do?” I poached the question towards both Mirage and Wattson – I could see myself sitting in a conversation with either of them, and being talked to about how ‘back in the day’ so on so forth.

“Mmhmmm!” Came Natalie’s affirmation. “I used to tell my smallest Nessie everything around the campfire, along with toasted marshmallows.”

“Sure, sure, all the time.” He drifted away on the last part, “well, you know, at least before the war across the frontier broke out.” Mirage commented, a hint of genuine bereavement laid behind his tone. He missed his family. That much was definitely clear. “OK. So for campfire stories, we’re gonna need more logs. And uhm. Umm. Stories!” 

“Wraith, we can go and get firewood!” Wattson bounces to feet. It’s like her legs were all just springs. “Please?” She looked toward me, her eyes were open wide, pleading. Her pupils were expanding as well. 

“Okay.” I say to her. My haze swivels around to look at Elliot. “We’re gonna go and get the firewood. What about you?” I stand up and give the back of my legs a wipe-down.

“Oh me, I’m just gonna… Stay here and guard the base.” He said it almost defensively, like I had accused him of something.

I span around and saw that Natalie had already started prancing off into the dark. There was this parting of trees that led off into the distance, a slightly off-white circle was being emitted from the torch she was gripping onto in her hand. I snuck up behind her. Slowly, steadily, stepping lightly so as to not alert her to how close I was getting. ‘Fifty centimetres, that’s enough distance to spook her, right?’ I asked myself. Sure it was.

“Boo.” I leapt at her slightly. She jumped and dropped the torch. My arms wrapped gently around her waist. “It’s me. Don’t worry.” I whispered. 

“S'il vous plaît, Renee.” She stretched the syllables at the end out. “Don’t scare me like that.”  
“I’m sorry. It was just too easy.”

I let go of her and she flexed her knees and leant down to grab the torch off of the ground. She spun around and flashed it in my face. “Good, you actually are Renee.” The light no matter how dim the light might have been it was still blinding, if only for an instant. “And how do you know that we’re not out of earshot of Mirage.” Once my eyes had readjusted I saw that across her face was plastered one of the largest pouts. 

“You heard me speak though.” I said as we strolled on. “Plus we might not be out of earshot of Mirage, adds to the risk I suppose.”

“Hmmph.” She retorts. “You could’ve been a rouge simulacrum or something, that steals voices.” 

“I could still be.” I said with a smile. I see her head spin around slightly, and she stares daggers right at me. “Ouch. I felt that.” 

We walked until we found the clearing. The moon shining into it at maybe a forty-fifty-degree angle. Either way, it had this otherworldly, ethereal nature to it, the way the moonlight pierced the clouds and hazily pooled at the bottom. It was stunning to see. I looked skywards, it wasn’t completely dark, there was this haze of light far out in the distance, most likely the light pollution leaking out from Solace City. The ground was littered with small branches, sticks, twigs. You name it. It was probably here. “There’s probably some good stuff here. Now that we can actually see.” Wattson commented.

“Mhm” I was already gathering a plethora of twigs. The only problem that I could for see is that there really wasn’t anything that really constituted as lumber, anything that would really keep the fire going for a long enough time anyway. I’m sure Mirage has a number of tales to tell, so we would need a lot of firewood, perhaps more than the two of us were able to even carry. But that was a hurdle to cross later. 

“Aaaaah!” My train of thought was interrupted by Natalie’s scream. I don’t think I had heard a scream that chilling before, at least not from her. I drop the load that I was collecting and instantly ran to her direction. This was odd. The voices, they hadn’t warned me of this. What was going on. Fear pricked each and every single hair on my forearms, adrenaline rushed through every vein and artery of my system. Where was she. Where was she. My eyes scanned the immediate forest floor. It was bright enough that I should’ve been able to see her if she had fallen over in the clearing. But she hadn’t. She wasn’t to be found. 

“Natalie?!” I shouted out. I waited. I stood in place. My head and body rotating, spinning. It was making me uneasy. “Natalie?” I called out once again. It was dead quiet. That’s when I saw it. The flash of a torch. It was brief. But it was there, it was something. I heard the trees and the undergrowth rustle as I ran towards her, maybe those noises were there before and only just being amplified by my paranoid brain. The spot on the ground where I saw the torch looked like it was only getting further and further away. 

I get to roughly the spot where I thought I saw the circle of light on the ground from the torch. Nothing. Light. Bright light. The torch was being shone into my face. “Hey Renee.” Came Natalie’s voice. She was teasing. I sighed. She was okay, well I couldn’t see if she was okay. But she sounded okay. “Did I get you?” She giggled, turning the flashlight off. She was lying flat on the ground. “Please say I scared you.”

“Ok. We’re even on scaring each other now?” My breaths were hurried and I was very much out of breath. I reach an arm out for her to grab onto. 

“Oui.” She tightly clasps my hand with hers and uses me to pull her to her feet. “But did I scare you?” She says rubbing herself down. 

“Could you not tell from me screaming out your name?” I muttered. 

“Oui. But I want to hear you say that I scared you. Mon amour.” She hugged onto my arm. I rolled my eyes. “I know that I did.” She teased.

“Ok. Ok. You got me. I was scared.” But if you want to have your campfire stories, we’ve got wood to collect, and not just twigs. We need something more sizeable.” With my hands, I imitate the size of the log that we’d need. 

“Mmm. I haven’t seen any like that, at least none that have already been chopped for us.” Wattson was right. Who would, in this day and age, chop wood and leave it around for someone to take “Any ideas Renee?” 

“I’m stumped.” I muttered.

Wattson giggled. “Hehe, I’m meant to be the ones with the jokes here, guess you’re branching out now. Get it?” As much as I adored her jokes. They weren’t going to get us out of this one.

“I think we get as much wood as we can and then head back to Mirage,” I say. “I think we’ve kept him long enough, maybe he’s fearful that something has happened to either of us.” I jest. Although knowing him, he would genuinely think that we’ve been attacked by a rogue simulacrum, or an old IMC robot. Who knows. “Stay close to my side.” I say with brevity.

“That’s all I can carry.” I call out. It had barely been five minutes since I told her to not leave my side, and whilst she was, thankfully, no longer hugging my left arm, she was still nearby, in eye and earshot.

“Oui,” She turns around to me. In her arms, a bountiful bundle of wooden paraphernalia. She starts up a light jog and we start heading back, the way we came, through the parting of trees.

We were probably halfway back to the campfire when I blurt out. “Hey, Nat. I’m sorry for scaring you earlier. I just thought it would be funny.” She stops walking. 

“Where’s all this coming from?” Her head tilts to a funny angle halfway through her sentence.

“I. When you were gone. I was really scared. I was scared something bad had happened to you.” My feet scuffed against the forest floor. 

“Aww. Renee. I’m sorry too. I probably overreacted to your joke, but the look on your face was priceless.” She smiled at me. “Like you said though, we’ve got to get back.” 

I nod, and off we go again. Nat’s bounding footsteps kept her further ahead. I still wasn’t fully over what happened. What if something had happened to her. I didn’t hear any voices, what if they’re not working anymore. What if the experiments carried out by the IMC had worn off, could that even happen? I’m pretty sure what they did to me was quite extensive; I’m certain it changed me completely – the recording from Senior Science Pilot Renee Blasey, that’s not me anymore. Maybe it never was. I’ve grown too dependent on the voices, or have I – they’re a part of me, I’m forever connected to the void, this dependence is mutual surely. Somehow.

I was rudely interrupted from my incoherent stream of consciousness by everyone’s lovable idiot: Mirage. “You, you two were gone a long time. And there’s dirt, on your clothes.” Mirage’s tone became questionable at the last part, I look over at him and give him a glare that knocked him into next week. Or perhaps the week after that. “You know what. I’m just, nah I’m just not gonna ask. You two do you, doesn’t affect me.” He shrugs.

“We got the firewood!” Natalie bounds over to the fire, placing her loot a suitable distance next to the fire. 

“It’s not a whole lot, but it should do.” I comment, adding my firewood next to Wattson’s. I immediately try and make a triangle with the newly found kindling, it was in vain, the flames were already licking up the kindling. 

“Stories!” Wattson called out from behind me. I nodded and sat back down next to her. 

“Mirage, you go.” I say gesturing towards him. “I’m gonna stay for one story then I’ll go sleep I think.”

“Aww,” came Wattson’s reply. 

“Hush.” I retorted. 

“What do I talk about.” Mirage was clearly thinking.

“Fears!” Wattson shouts. She looks to me, a grin on her face. 

“Oh god. We’re going here? Ok, ok. We’re going here.” Mirage sat, he drummed his finger against his leg. “I think, I fear. I think I fear about losing the games.” Mirage looked at the two of us, a giant grin across our faces. 

“Booo.” We said in unity. 

“If you’re going to tell awful stories like this, then I’m out.” I stood up and went to my tent. I heard the rumblings of Wattson behind me, hopefully she’d go to her tent, we nearly had our cover blown once, I’d like to keep things on the low down for the time being, especially infront of Mirage – man keeps secrets as well as a bottle that’s smashed, and its contents leaking down into a drain. 

“Wait guys, I can tell another. I’m full of stories.” Mirage pleaded.

“Read the room.” I muttered, as I unzipped the tent, climbed in and then zipped it back up again. 

Once I’m lying down, I go over the events once again. Why were my voices not working, had I done something, had I forgotten something – had I forgotten someone? My mind was truly spinning. Desperation rushed from inside me, was there anything I could do to make the voices come back? Panic began to set in, especially being stuck inside this small tent. I pulled the sleeping bag up around me, and zipped it up. These were thoughts for another day. Maybe I’ll tell Nat about it, she’ll have some sort of level headed advice for me.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to revisit this one again after July too. This was really fun to write! Sorry for darksparks spam though.
> 
> Thank you all for reading <3


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